Professor Layton and the Remains of a Madman
by itacake
Summary: *BEING REWRITTEN CURRENTLY* Four years after the event of Lost Future, Clive approaches the Layton gang unexpectedly for help in exchange of him showing repentance for his actions. One slight problem, however. Clive Dove has been dead for four years.
1. Chapter 1

**ITS HERE FINALLY. Sorry for the /colossal/ wait, school has been bombarding me. While rewriting this fic, I realized that things would progress much smoother if this were not a shipfic, but you can interpret anything the way you wish to! Yeah. I hope you enjoy this rewrite! I didn't change this chapter much at all because I was surprisingly satisfied with how I wrote it.**

"Luke, would you mind releasing those poor snails back to where they came from?" Professor Layton lifted his feet as a snail slowly attempted to trek across the table they were resting on. Early that day, Luke had gone outside and collected seven snails when it had rained. "A true gentleman never disturbs nature unless necessary."

Looking up from his puzzle, said boy had nodded and collected the snails back into the jar before adjusting his blue hat and slipping on his (now dirty) shoes. "Alright professor, I'll be back in a few minutes."

Since the events of their last adventure, about four years have passed and Luke had moved back to London a year back. He was now a bright eighteen year old boy who never really matured that much from his big move to America. Though appearance wise, he has grown to be a fairly strong, tall young man (inheriting Clark's height).

As of recently, talk had been rising about a certain man who was responsible for the kidnapping of Bill Hawks. However in the Layton household such conversation was quickly rerouted. Even Flora (whose cooking still made a strong adult gag), had decided to try erasing the day from her memory and would have none of it.

Was it because _he_ was gone? Up and disappeared from existence? Either way, no one talked and no one had ever discovered the true secret of Bill Hawks. Meaning, yes, he was still prime minister.

The sun started seeping out through the clouds by the time Luke had returned all of the snails. His wristwatch confirmed that it was about five in the afternoon, and that he had been outside for about half an hour.

"Oh shoot, I've been out way longer than what I told the professor! I hope he doesn't get worried.." Luke muttered under his breath before preparing to run back to the small house that he, the professor, and Flora shared.

Unfortunately, a suspicious plant had other plans, "Oh, ew-!" The plant had shuffled slightly before remaining still once more. Luke raised and eyebrow and slowly turned around, seeing that the potted plant that adorned one of the various flower gardens had somehow moved farther away from the place where he had released the snails.

After thinking for a second, Luke picked up a snail, placed it in his hand, and slowly approached the potted thing before a human jumped out from behind it and backed away.

"D-don't bring that snail any closer-!" The person attempted to intimidate him, but failed miserably.

Well, _would have_ failed miserably if only it were any other person, other than Clive Dove. Who was the young man standing in front of Luke.

At first he was astonished, then he was wary of the older male. He slowly let the snail crawl back into the muddy garden while sustaining eye contact with the other. For some reason, Luke couldn't quite trace Clive's emotions at the moment before possibly seeing a flicker of joy.

"Finally, Luke Triton. I see you recognize me. It's been so hard to talk to anyone lately, they would just ignore me." He tipped his head as if the events of four years back never existed.

"Clive Dove, I see you haven't aged a day since our last meeting." Luke attempted at offering a compliment, but instead it seemed to just irritate the other.

Confused, he decided not to push it, "Wh.. what are you doing here? I thought-" He was immediately cut off before he said the rest.

"Well, one can't simply believe everything they see in the media these days, can they? And I'm here to ask for assistance." Clive frowned, "I know you may not be willing to accept my apology, but I ask that you hear me out.

"Four years ago, I committed a great sin onto our innocent city and nearly caused a huge calamity that would have completely demolished the way of life for everyone in London. I apologize, and I'm sincerely thankful that the professor was there to stop me in time." He sighed, signaling the end of his apology. Luke frowned at the ending bit of his apology.

"But in return, the fortress was demolished!" Luke replied astonished, as Clive simply replied with a "Yeah, so?"

"... You know what, nevermind.. I forgive you, ON- on- on one condition." He emphasized the last part when he could literally _feel_ joy bouncing off of the other. "You need to show sincere proof that you've changed your ways."

"Deal." Clive extended his right hand before Luke hesitated and finally accepted it. He awkwardly led the other to Layton's place where the three had lived as a family, and put his hand on the brass door knob before Clive quickly placed his on top of it,

"Wait, I think we should talk a bit privately before this." He sounded a bit worried. By now, the rain had returned to slowly douse the two standing outside the front door; when Layton abruptly swung it open, knocking Clive in the face.

"Oh hello, Luke. I thought I heard your voice out here, please hurry inside before you catch a cold!" Layton gestured his arm in a "hurry inside!" motion and Luke helped Clive stand back up before stepping inside.

"H'm? Luke, what are you doing?" Layton frowned when he saw the other fussing over Clive's bloody nose.

"Er, professor I have no way of explaining this at the moment, let me tend to this bloody nose first please." Luke didn't exactly have a way of words and hurried inside before the professor was able to ask any questions. Flora stared at the duo from the couch in the living room until they disappeared up the wooden stairs. "What is up with him today..? Bloody nose? He looked perfectly fine to me!" Nineteen year old Flora looked up slowly from the large, hardcover novel she sported in her hands.

Layton shook his head concerningly, "I'm not quite sure, but I intend to figure it out. First things first, though. Would you like a cup of Earl Grey tea, Flora?" She nodded gratefully, then turned to look at the rain loudly splattering the window.

"I hope he hasn't caught something awful from being outside." Turning back to her book, she continued to flip the yellowed pages.

Layton sighed and placed the saucer and teacup on the small coffee table across from her, "As I said, I'm not sure.. Dear Flora, would you like to know a small fact about today?" She faced Layton and nodded hesitantly, signaling for him to continue though she already had an inkling suspicion of where he was going.

"Today's the anniversary of our last adventure. The one with the Underground London, and Clive Dove's colossal machine." His face took on a grim expression.

"And the same colossal machine he was killed in that day."


	2. Chapter 2

**Eh slight AL spoilers but they're not that evident. HERE'S where I really took a dive with changing the story. If there are typos or places that don't make sense please message me, I didn't have any time to revise.**

The upstairs bathroom to the Layton residence was a bit small, then again there were only three people living in the house at the moment. Emmy had.. gone, and there were not many visitors to be had.

Clive had already started to clean his bloody nose after all of Luke's fussing. While he was taking care of it, Luke remained quiet and an air of awkwardness came over them.

".. I'm quite alright up here, Luke. You should go downstairs and talk with the professor until I'm finished." Clive offered to the other, voice slightly muffled due to the tissues against his face. Luke shook his head in disagreement.

"The last time you tried taking care of yourself didn't end up well, now did it?" He pushed the other down into the nearby wooden stool before inspecting the injury and concluding it to be okay.

"Speaking of which.. How _did_ you manage to escape that massive wreckage of the machine? It fell through the ground and kind of exploded." Luke raised an eyebrow in curiosity. Honestly, the question had been eating at him since Clive's appearence behind the potted plant.

"A true gentleman never reveals his secrets," He imitated the professor's voice, "then again, I'm not exactly a true gentleman. Maybe we can talk about this later." Clive mused and stood up, following Luke out of the dimly lit restroom.

Luke stopped abruptly at the top of the stairs. "Hold up, I'm not so keen about the idea of revealing you to the professor and Flora quite yet. Instead try waiting inside of my room while I speak to them." Clive nodded, about to walk into the room Luke had pointed to before adding,

"If things do not go exactly to plan, just come back upstairs immediately." He stepped inside the (now dark) room. Luke didn't quite understand what the other was trying to say, but made his way down the steep stairs nonetheless. Right when he stepped inside of the living room, the first words that came to his ears were, "... and the same colossal machine he was killed in that day."

Sipping her tea and fiddling with the hem of her dress anxiously, Flora seemed to be on edge while the professor just appeared to be regretful in profile. "Wh.. at's going on..?" He didn't like the off putting mood and sat down next to Flora. Layton turned around from the pattering window and shook his head.

"No, no Luke. We were just exchanging news from today." He turned back towards the window, more quiet than usual. Upon standing behind the professor and following his gaze, a stone memorial was noticeable from their current angle. It was the (fairly small) memorial that had been made for the victims of a fourteen year old incident in London. Luke had never been there himself but he planned on doing so later.

Though it _did _remind him of an event that occurred four years ago. To their exact day, even. He tried to disperse the current mood and spoke up, "Uh.. I think I have news that you may want to hear. Do you remember when Clive walked through the door earlier with the bloody nose..?" Luke was really bad at this, but the mention of Clive did pique Layton's interest.

"Er, Luke I don't quite understand. You were alone when you walked through the door." He seemed thoroughly confused. Layton frowned, an odd look coming over his face, "Are you quite alright?"

"What? No- no, I'm perfectly fine. Maybe you just didn't see him." Luke quickly stepped up the stairs and peeked his head into his room, "They don't believe me! You need to come downstairs and talk to them also." Clive's head snapped up from it's daze and he stood up from the chair he sat in.

"I'd.. rather not." His gaze averted to a nearby wall.

"Well why not?" He grew suspicious of the other's sudden reluctance and aversion.

"Luke, why do you think you can see me, yet the others cannot?" Clive looked down, shadows casting over his eyes. When he could see the gears in Luke's mind turning but made no answer, he sighed and walked out the door. ".. Forget it. I'll let you think for yourself."

Luke didn't hear the front door closing but he knew he was gone, at least for a little while.

~X~

Oh, Dove. You've really dug yourself a hole haven't you?

Clive thought to himself and sighed while walking outside. He had suspected this negative outcome already, but still dreaded the truth of his current situation. He was a ghost and for reasons unknown, was unable to pass onto a better (or definitely worse) place, and was unable to be seen by the whole world other than a mere child (technically adult now).

"What a cruel world." He mumbled to himself and leant up against a nearby light post, flickering slightly in contrast to the dark, night sky. The sun had long before melted into the horizon and took the warmth of day with it. Though, it wasn't like he could really be affected by it anyways.

After a few minutes, he decided to go back. Seeing as the front door was locked, he reluctantly passed through the door and crept back upstairs to Luke, rolling his eyes once he noticed the other had dozed off.

"Luke.. Luuuuuke.." Clive whispered, unsure of his reaction. Luke groaned and sat up to look him right in the eye, only to yell and jump backwards off of the bed.

"A ghost!" He stepped back, reaching for the doorknob. Clive let out a breath he wasn't aware that he was holding, and mumbled, "Now, isn't that quite rude to go off calling people ghosts?" _Even if they technically were a ghost_, he added mentally.

"B-but you ARE-" Before Luke could finish, Clive sent a chilling glare towards him. He hated being reminded of that.

"Could you not, perhaps? I'm here to explain a few things.

"One, stop calling me a ghost. It's.. uncomfortable. Two, I want to discuss our earlier agreement. As you know, I have some unsettled business, which puts me in this state." He paused and a look of desperation entered his face. "... Help me. I will find a way to fulfill my end of the bargain but as of now- I'm.. desperate." Clive concluded regretfully, adjusting his hat to distract him.

Luke didn't think he could feel this way towards a madman who nearly destroyed London, but there was an evident pang of sympathy resonating through him. Before he could reply, a loud clock reminded the two that it was now ten in the evening. It was an overwhelming day and Luke wasn't quite ready for a serious, lengthy conversation at the moment.

"... You must be tired. Let's talk about this in the morning after we get some sleep."

"Luke I am a ghost with little perception of time sleep is irrelevant to me."

"Well okay then."

~X~

Luke awoke to see a giant lump in the bed. Apparently Clive decided to sleep anyways and had claimed the blankets near the end of the frame. _What a child_, he chided to himself and slipped out of bed.

Remembering the events of last night, Luke grew increasingly concerned for Clive's mentality. He reviewed what he knew so far.

The two struck an agreement. Clive is a ghost, but can still interact with people and things (if he tries). He hates snails. Clive avoids the fact of his missing mortality. The professor and Flora know of this, but do not believe it.

"What a mess.." Luke ran his hand through his hair. The voice was enough to wake the other apparently, as the ghost made a loud thump as he fell on the floor from trying to get up.

"Wha.." Clive did not look like the madman that tried to destroy London four years ago, he looked like an ordinary young man that had just woken up from a nice dream late in the morning. "Oh, morning. It's been a while since I tried sleeping."

He stood up and stretched tiredly as the house once more grew quiet. Deciding not to let the silence overcome them, Luke smelled the air and turned towards Clive. "Do you want any breakfast?"

The duo stumbled down the stairs and waved at Layton who was setting a plate of pancakes in the middle of the dining table, "Good morning, professor.." They spoke in unison, though Layton could only hear Luke.

"Oh, good morning Luke. Did you get a good rest last night? You woke up a bit early today." It was in fact seven in the morning according to the various analog clocks adorning the walls.

"I guess so.." As Luke was reaching for one of the pancakes to slide onto his plate, Clive teased the other, "Luke, you know a true gentleman doesn't eat before everyone is at the table." To that, he quickly retracted his arm to his side with an embarrassed look on his face.

Soon after, Flora slowly thumped down the stairs while yawning loudly, still in her nightgown. "Good morning, Luke.. Professor.." Her gaze flickered to Clive before she quickly averted it and took her seat near the window. Layton didn't even raise an eyebrow, and finished placing the various foods on the table.

"Luke, do you think they'd believe you if I lifted a fork up in front of them." Clive asked, making Luke snort while eating a pancake.

"Professor, I think I should cook something for everyone for when we're done eating." Flora suddenly announced (quite loudly) before quickly stepping into the kitchen. If Luke had a legendary appetite, Flora had a legendary talent of messing up recipes.

Nothing else needed to be said when Layton quickly followed after Flora, trying to coax her out of cooking another one of her fish cakes (that were literal fish-cakes).

Luke sighed in relief, "Looks like Layton's going to stop another one of her random cooking disasters."

Clive on the other hand, didn't believe it to just be a "random event." After breakfast, the professor left to his teachings at the university, Luke was solving a puzzle in the kitchen, and Flora sat in the living room once more. Still reading the same book from yesterday and sipping the same tea.

"Boo!" Clive snuck up behind her while she was focused on the story to attempt his experiment, to which provided promising results.

"Aah!" She jumped up and tossed the book towards the far end of the couch. Irritated, Flora whipped around to face him, "Would you quit looming so close by-!"

And there it was, the last strike. She put up her act for far too long, and ended up noticing him on accident. "Shit-"

"Remember, Flora. A true lady never curses!" Clive smirked. She sent a death glare towards him and snapped, "Does that mean you're a true lady now? You're hardly a gentleman!"

In a mocking tone, Clive spat, "Because I am definitely a threat in the state I'm in right now. Really, Flora. Please try harder if you're trying to pretend I don't exist."

Flora mopped up the spilt tea with a handkerchief on the table and growled, "Why are you even here? You should be in hell for what you've done."

He laughed cynically, "I'm sure they have a special seat reserved for me. Now, answer this question for me. How can you see me?" Clive tapped his foot while expecting an answer.

"Well.. Maybe because it never really, truly hit me that you were dead." Flora gave in. He could sympathise, some deaths still felt unreal to him also.

"Who knows. But now that it's a fact that you're aware of my presence.." Flora was surprised at Clive's sincere response.

"What?"

"Argh- this is a little embarrassing, but.. I'm sorry for sort of pretending to be your friend, and for trying to destroy London, and betraying everyone, and sort of kidnapping you-"

"Sort of..?!"

"Anyways, I have no excuse for what I've done, and all I can do is attempt to fix what I've caused and start over. I don't expect you to forgive me, but.." He finished with a face of uncertainty. He wasn't sure if Flora would accept his apology so easily, so he was surprised when she slapped him in the face.

Twice.

"For betraying us..!" Slap. "And for trying to destroy London and kidnapping me." Slap. She stared at him with a stone face, then sighed.

"_Now_ I may work on forgiving you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, I just saw that I wasn't getting any notifications from about reviews.. so I'll just do that here. I LOST TRACK OF WHAT MONTH IT WAS IN THIS STORY ALSO THE SEASON SO LET'S JUST SAY IT'S LATE FALL IDK SPOOPS MAN.**

**EDIT 11/2 happy (LATE I KNOW LMAO) halloween! this chapter has been revised. though tw for mentions of suicide**

Luke sighed in satisfaction at another solved puzzle, then decided to step into the livingroom for a breather when he walked in on Flora slapping Clive.

"_Now_ I may work on forgiving you." She said in a satisfied fashion, but soon looked down at her hand with an expression that yelled, _oh man it actually worked_. Clive was rubbing the side of his face she had backhanded twice and sighed, "I guess I deserved that."

"Flora, you see him?" Luke decided to voice his own thoughts (and his presence as neither had noticed he was in the room yet). They both jumped at the sudden sound of Luke and Flora nodded.

"Yes, though not at first." She sat down, looking to find the discarded book from earlier.

"How long have you been able to see me then?" Clive had been wondering about this for a while, but never voiced his thoughts until he was comfortable with another person being there. She thought for a minute, then a lightbulb went off.

"Probably when we were sitting with the professor and you kind of just appeared like you've always been there."

"Hm." Was all he said before telling the others that he was going on a walk. They nodded before he silently stepped out, opening the door to the outside.

As a ghost, there were some obvious perks and setbacks. One was that while there were living people all around you, ghosts still roam the streets of London. So many, you could say the chances of you bumping into another ghost while wandering through a crowd of living was about a fourth. Although Clive never expected to bump into one ghost in particular.

The first thing he noted was the smell of bourbon and roses. The second was the silk gray scarf. The third was the voice of a familiar bonafide, fedora-sporting asshole.

"What do we have here, a child roaming the streets of London without supervision?" Clive could practically _feel_ the mocking tone and contained his annoyance. He knew Dimitri was just loving this, the ghost of the young adult who'd betrayed him had finally been found. Pathetic, desperate, and confused.

".. Dimitri Allen. I see you've finally kicked the bucket from under you." The crowd soon moved on, leaving the two alone. Dimitri scowled and rubbed at his neck; he didn't look well. Like a man who pulled three consecutive allnighters. _How did that happen, I thought ghosts couldn't-?_ Clive grew confusion in his own mind but was soon interrupted by a sigh.

"Clive Dove, I see you still have a cynical taste in humor." He rolled his eyes. Oh, good ol' Dimitri Allen.

Clive started to say something before looking into what Dimitri had said and gaping at his own revelation, ".. I know this is a long shot but are you saying you literally kicked the bucket?" A grimace. He didn't want to hear this. A groan.

Oh boy.

"Of course," Dimitri snapped, tired eyes growing more stressed, "I've tried to keep my faithful word of abandoning time travel since four years ago, but ever since Claire's.. departure, there have been difficulties. Nightmares that eventually consumed me and left me in an emotional wreck. How could you expect anything different? All of your life's work going down the drain, the love of your life with another, and then dying." He shook his head, turning to look at Clive, "Don't try to tell me you've never had any dark thoughts like mine, because that is a set in stone, obvious lie."

He wasn't surprised. When they had been afliciates, Clive had heard many stories of Dimitri's life. Not gonna lie, it had sounded like he was living in a downwards spiral. They both had been.

"You said it was a longshot. How were you sure enough to ask?"

"Your life honestly sounded like shit, and after I said something about kicking the bucket you rubbed your neck." He wasted no time and gave straight answers, "I suppose it was only a matter of time."

"Blunt, huh."

They took time to sit down somewhere in the afternoon, away from the chaos of London streets. It seemed though Dimitri often snapped and sassed him, he eventually forgave him and landed at a point between loathing, pity, and.. acquaintanceship. Things from recent events, to the future, to how they were going to pass onto a better place were discussed. A tiresome conversation, but well-needed as it lasted well into the evening.

The sun was melting into an angry orange and magenta wave when Clive decided it was best to head on back home. _Why had he even walked outside in the first place?_ He shook his head, either way it was time to go home.

"I'm heading out. I hope I never see you again." He said in a sarcastic and joking fashion that only Dimitri was able to pick up.

"Likewise you filthy animal." He stood up and adjusted his scarf before turning a serious face and looking Clive in the eye.

"Wait, there's one more thing." Given the seriousness of his tone, it piqued interest in Clive and he stopped to listen. He continued to speak, cautiously, "Rumors have been floating around, saying ghosts are becoming.. odd." This was new.

"Odd? The only odd one here right now is you, what do you mean by that?" He grew wary of the news. Odd? What does he mean by that?

Dimitri continued, "Some start acting odd as in something about them I can't really describe but they look and act different they, they go downhill and one day they just don't pass on normally."

This started twisting a slight knot of fear in Clive, "You've got to be joking.."

"They disappear. None of that happily passing onto the next life in sleep thing, no, one day they stop and look around like they lost their whole identity, like a bout of dissociation and you can see their fear and suddenly.."

He didn't know when his eyes grew wide, but Clive soon had to remember to blink as they started burning, ".. Gone." He couldn't believe it, he knew ghosts could corrupt and become vengeful spirits or phantoms but this seemed unheard of. "How do you know?"

"I saw it happen myself last week." _Oh_.

"Let's not talk about this anymore, I don't want to end this day on a bad note." _Not like it even mattered._

They departed and Clive returned home, by then stars began to pop up in the sky few by few. He shivered in the cold and wrapped his arms around himself. Of course they were cold as ice. Luke was the first to notice his return.

"You spent all day outside, just what kind of walk required that much.. walking?" He began to prepare tea and filled the kettle with hot water. It was warm in Layton's home. He tiredly sat down at a chair in the kitchen table.

"I met up with an old friend, you could say. Exchanged information." The room began to fill with earthy and relaxing smells, that enough probably would've been able to put him to sleep. "No closer to finding a way to pass on." Luke gave him a sideways glance.

"Don't look so dejected." Not just dejected, scared. "I have a day off from college tomorrow too, we can do some research then." He poured the tea into two cups and slid one on a saucer to Clive who gratefully accepted it and took a sip. Not the best, but still unique in it's own way. He paused in his current thoughts and raised an eyebrow at the other while stirring his tea with a small spoon.

"College? I didn't think.." Of course. "Luke you're 18 now!"

"Is that really much of a shock?" He smiled lopsidedly and took an ungentlemanly swig of tea.

"No it's just- you're nearly my age now." Clive yawned and set his head on the table, sleepy from the tea and the eventful day. Luke seemed to pick up on the notion and took back the empty cups, placing them into the sink. He shut off the lights with a small flick and left a blanket on top of the table.

"Or at least, the age I used to be." Luke stopped in his tracks and turned around, only to see the ghost already have fallen asleep. He wouldn't let it show, but for a moment he felt genuine pity for him.

~X~

A stout, middle aged man shot up from the bed, sweaty and panicked. His wife groaned next to him, "Dear, another one of those nightmares?"

"Yes, please go back to sleep." Bill Hawks sighed, as his significant other started to snore once more.

He saw the events of four years ago unfold once more, feeling the blasts from the machine disturbing the air around it. However this time, Celeste, that sister of his former assistant, managed to save Clive at the last second before the colossal machine went down. To his disgust, Bill saw the man only receive five or six years in prison while he was kicked out of office.

It truly was a nightmare, and he's been having them for weeks now, maybe even months. The effects it gave were starting to become evident in his work, affecting his everyday life.

He warily gave a sweeping glance around the room and shut off the lights.

You could never be too cautious.

Not with ghosts about.

~X~

Clive opened his eyes and stretched, realizing he had fallen asleep while Luke was cleaning up teacups. Although, he remembered Luke leaving a blanket at his side after falling asleep at the kitchen table, not being carried to the couch and having the blanket tucked in on him (something no one's done since his days with Constance Dove). He shook off the confusion and went to wake up Luke for their library search.

Another uneventful day of research and questioning proved to be fruitless. Flora hung back and read a book in the library while Clive and Luke investigated for hours, revealing nothing but dejection.

Clive shut a book loudly and pushed it back into it's place on the shelf, "Let's just go home, it's obvious there's nothing to be found here." Though they didn't want to admit it, he was probably right.

Flora nodded also and checked out her own book to return home and glanced out the window, though something must have caught her attention as she audibly gasped.

"Bill Hawks is walking into that restaurant!" While that gathered several library-goers to the window, Clive hung back, disgusted. He wouldn't accept his victory. The vile scum giving him endless nightmares and resentful feelings.

"Oh I wish for his death. I can't imagine his face when he finally sees me, tormenting him, and there's nothing to be done about it because no money could save him now." _In fact_, he thought to himself, _let's pay him a visit_. Luke gave him a funny yet fearful look from his outburst and before he could stop him, he was gone.

The restaurant was your typical 5 star glitzy eatery for London's richest and influential. Inside was a great chandelier that offered a dim, mood setting light across the entire restaurant. He spotted the devil's wife, Helen, seated at a table by a window and grinned, seeing as Bill was not there.

In the restroom, Bill Hawks washed up his face and glasses. Tonight was a night like any other and him and his wife were going to have a fine dinner outside, as they hadn't done in a while. Not since the banquet before the "time machine" incident. As he dried his face, he swore there was a figure standing behind him and he turned to look, yet not a trace of a person was there.

Odd, he hadn't heard any footsteps or an opened or closed door. The temperature in the room had considerably dropped also.

"No.. There are no ghosts here there is no abnormalities we are going to have dinner go home and-" A loud pop and breaking of glass. One of the light bulbs surrounding the mirrors had shattered, leaving a cut on Bill's face. "Who's there?! What's going on- who's laughing!?"

Clive looked on with sadistic glee, madness seeping into his laughter. Oh had he wished to do this every day, to see this man in fear and paranoia. More light bulbs shattered, bringing the room closer and closer to darkness. Bill had scrambled away from the broken glass bulbs and the room was engulfed in darkness. After a moment of peace and absolute terror, he shakily stood up and attempted to open the door. It wouldn't budge.

"Oh no, you're not going that easily." The instability of rationality grew and Clive enjoyed this moment, ".. Not after what you've done fourteen years ago." He shattered the mirror.

"Not after failing to repent for your sins." At last, Bill seemed to click everything in place.

".. Dove."

Clive was no longer in the room, though he wished to stay, something was bothering him and he wanted to just go home . To the professor's home at least. So he left the fearful prime minister and drifted off, hoping he gave the man nightmares.

"I.. hadn't touched any of those light bulbs. I didn't touch that mirror either." Boy, he could really use some tea to clear up heavy confusion swimming in his thoughts, but there wasn't any more ruminating on the subject as soon he groaned and kneeled down outside the library clutching his head. What a terrible headache.

Luke and Flora had found him not a minute later and scolded him for running off. They returned to the professor's and Clive put bandages on a few cuts he received from flying glass. It seemed no one noticed flying bandages as they went unnoticed by the professor. That actually reminded him, something else that seemed off from earlier that day.

"Professor, please stop pretending, I know you hear and see me."


End file.
